


you're hoping you're not hopeless

by laurenjauregui



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, autistic!lauren, the camren is truly squint to find it, the ymms prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:26:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenjauregui/pseuds/laurenjauregui
Summary: Camila wants to make it through her high school career without getting outed.Lauren just wants to fit in and find somebody to love her.The you make me sick (for being so perfect) prequel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well. this will be short, but it'll explore the year before camila and lauren meet. this won't be fluffy, like the main fic. both lauren and camila will be in bad places.
> 
> there's your warning if you don't like angst back out now.

Fingers running over her palm. Three circles. A comforting, familiar voice.

Everything is blurry to Lauren, and she stays hidden under her blanket, her body extra sensitive. The circles on her palm are starting to hurt, and her head aches, but the thing that hurts the most is her heart. She feels like a part of it has been ripped out, like she’s lost half her world.

It’s almost true. She’s lost the one person she was sure understood her. Her abuela, Angelica, had passed away four days ago, and Lauren hadn’t moved from her bed since.

“Lo,” the voice says again, and Lauren whimpers, the auditory stimulation too much when she’s so hypersensitive. She tears her hand from the person’s grip and hides it under her blanket, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling Nala to her chest.

“Your dad said you won’t move.” Normani says, and Lauren feels a weight next to her on her bed. She tugs on her blanket, making sure she’s cocooned up properly, and there’s no gaps that anyone can use to touch her. “And judging by how ripe it smells in here, I can tell he’s not lying.”

Lauren doesn’t care about that; the only thing she can focus on is how much she hurts.

“I know it hurts, Lo. I know how close you were to your abuela.” Normani says, and at the word _abuela_ , Lauren whimpers, her heart stinging. “But she wouldn’t want you to lay in here, getting all smelly. Would she? She’d want you to be outside, living your life. She’d want you to be making art or at least watching _The Lion King_.”

Lauren shuffles at the mention of her favourite movie; she hadn’t watched it since her abuela had passed, the longest period of time she’s ever gone without watching it. It hurts, because she wishes she could watch it, but her _abuela_ was the last person she watched it _with_. Lauren doesn’t want that to change.

Normani sighs at the lack of response. “Can I at least come under your blanket with you? Don’t you want a cuddle?”

Lauren shifts slightly, considering this. She’s so hypersensitive that wearing clothes would hurt her, which is why she hasn’t worn any for the four days she’s been hiding away from everyone. Overstimulation could lead to sensory overload, and Lauren is worried that if Normani talks or touches her in the wrong place, it’ll upset her.

But, she loves cuddles with her best friend, so she shuffles again, holding her blanket open, and Normani gets underneath, finally smiling at her. Lauren blinks, her gaze flitting away immediately.

“There’s my favourite green eyes.” Normani smiles at her, and Lauren squeezes them shut, her breathing heavier. Talking and touching is too much, and she puts her hands up to her ears. Normani seems to understand, and stays quiet, letting Lauren come to her.

After a few minutes of nervous shifting, Lauren shuffles close to her best friend, cringing slightly at the denim of Normani’s jeans, but relaxes in her hold once she’s settled.

Normani traces soft patterns against Lauren’s tummy, and she lets out a small whimper when her friend only makes three circles and stops. Normani laughs, and mumbles something about how she’ll keep going, and Lauren sighs, her heart aching when she thinks of her abuela.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when she wakes up, Normani is with her, her hands still against Lauren’s tummy. She shuffles and whines, wanting the patterns, but Normani doesn’t move, so Lauren flips over and sees her best friend, fast asleep. She tilts her head to the side and pushes Normani’s shoulder.

Chewing on her bottom lip anxiously, Lauren nudges her again. “Manibear.”

It comes out quiet and stuttered, but it’s the first word Lauren has spoken in days. Normani’s eyes flutter open, and she sends Lauren a small smile. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t realise I fell asleep.”

Lauren taps out a pattern against her thigh. “Can you- um… tummy rubs?”

“Sure,” Normani says, but doesn’t continue immediately. “But only if you get a shower.”

Lauren frowns down at her feet. “I- I don’t… I’m too- too sad.”

“Come on,” Normani nudges her, and Lauren pouts. “Shower, then I’ll let you have tummy rubs. And we’ll watch _The Lion King_ to cheer you up. I know you’re hurting, Lo. I know how close you were with your abuela, but you need to get out of bed and stop being so upset. It’s going to hurt, but she’ll be looking down on you right now, yelling at you to get off your butt and go shower.”

Lauren sighs, but considers it. If her abuela would want her to, she thinks maybe it’s okay. So, she nods, and lets Normani hold her hand as she walks into her bathroom and turns her shower on. She doesn’t care that she’s not wearing any clothes; Normani has seen her plenty of times. Lauren never wears clothes when she’s upset, because she doesn’t like the way everything is so hypersensitive on her skin.

Normani opts to run Lauren a bubble bath, and Lauren stands and stares as her friend gets it ready. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and her fingers tap against her bare thighs; Lauren is doing everything she can to keep her mind off her abuela.

“Manibear?” Lauren croaks, her voice even raspier from lack of use over the last few days. “Can you- um, tell me a story?”

“Sure, once you get in the bath.” Normani smiles, and Lauren complies, getting into the tub and sitting down, tucking her knees up to her chest in an effort to make herself smaller. “What kind of story do you want?”

“Um… a love story.” Lauren decides, looking up at her friend for a moment before her gaze flits away. “About you.”

“You want to know all my love life secrets, huh?” Normani laughs, but Lauren knows she’s only teasing. Normani kneels on the bathroom floor, helping Lauren wet her hair so she can wash it for her. “Alright. Well, this guy called Arin has been flirting with me a lot, but I’m kind of playing hard to get. A couple other guys have been trying to slide into the DMs, but you know I don’t reply to fuckboys.”

Lauren shifts slightly, closing her eyes as Normani massages shampoo into her scalp. “Do you think- um… never mind.”

Normani squeezes her shoulder comfortingly. “What’s wrong, Lo? You know you can tell me anything.”

The words catch in Lauren’s throat, and she really wishes she has Nala, but she can’t cuddle Nala in the bath. “I- um… I just… want- I- do you think, um, that anyone will ever… have a crush on me?”

She hears the long breath Normani takes at her words, and Lauren wonders what it means. She wants to ask, but she’s more focused on her answer. Normani is quiet, as though she’s absorbing the words.

Eventually, Lauren gets her answer. “Of course, Lo. I bet people already have, and they just haven’t told you.”

“No, but…” Lauren shifts uncomfortably as Normani washes the shampoo from her hair. “I don’t think that’s true. Because… because people laugh at me.”

Normani’s hands still for a moment. “Lo, people don’t-”

“They do. They look at me funny and laugh and I never know why. And I don’t… I don’t know if anyone will ever have a crush on me.” Lauren says, wishing she could talk to her abuela about this. Her abuela would understand. “I- I’m weird. And people don’t… don’t like it. And crushes, they’re based off first impressions, but how will anyone ever- _ever_ get a crush on me if- if I’m… like I am?”

“Lauren,” Normani says, her voice shaky. She clears her throat, and when she speaks, it’s a lot firmer. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out. You’ll find your person. I promise.”

Lauren isn’t sure she believes her.

-

Camila sits on the bleachers, pulling at the uncomfortable polyester of her cheerleading uniform. Wistfully, she glances over at the band while they practice, having fun playing their instruments. She wishes she’d joined, but Marielle had told her that she and Sandra wouldn’t be seen with her in school if she did that.

If she wanted to fit in, she has to be a cheerleader.

She guesses there’s one good thing about cheerleading; Ariana. She’s a year older, a junior, but she’d been named head cheerleader in her sophomore year, the youngest for ten years. She’s just so _cool_ and everything Camila wants to be, and admittedly, she’s kind of the reason Camila realised she’s bi. Not that she’s ever going to _tell_ anyone about that.

“Mila!” Marielle sits down next to her, already changed out of her uniform. “Why are you looking at them?”

Camila tears her eyes away from the band and shrugs. “Just daydreaming, I guess.”

Marielle rolls her eyes. “Come on, you’ve been in a really weird mood all day. What’s up with you?”

While Marielle can be – for lack of a better word – a bitch sometimes, she’s also the closest thing Camila truly has to a confidant, and she always manages to pick her up when she’s feeling down.

“I don’t know,” Camila shrugs. “I just feel weird.”

If she’s being honest, she’s been feeling _weird_ for the last four days. It’s like an unexplainable cloud of gloom is over her head, following her where she goes, but it’s not like she has a _reason_ to be sad. In fact, she should be happy; her first day of sophomore year is over and done with.

“Well, has anything happened?” Marielle asks her. “Is everything okay at home?”

“Yeah,” Camila murmurs, because the only time she ever really feels _herself_ is when she’s at home. When she’s looking after her baby sister, who seems to be getting so big so fast. “It’s fine, I just feel weird. I’m trying to ignore it.”

“Alright, well, hurry up and change,” Marielle says, “my mom won’t wait forever for you to get your ass out to the parking lot.”

Camila nods in acknowledgement, and pushes herself up, heading towards the locker rooms. She still feels weirdly gloomy, like there’s a weight on her chest, and wonders why she’s been in this undeniably bad mood for the last few days. It’s not like anything has happened to her.

She pushes open the door to the locker room and grabs her clothes, quickly swapping out the uncomfortable cheerleading uniform for her jeans and a hoodie. She leaves her hair in its ponytail, and she’s about to leave the locker room when there’s a voice.

“Hi, Camila.”

She whirls around, her heart quickening in her chest when she meets Ariana’s gaze. “Oh, um… hi. Did you… want something?”

Ariana just smirks, slowly approaching, like a panther stalking its prey. She gets close to her, and Camila can smell her perfume, her breath catching in her throat. Ariana leans in, and Camila swears to _god_ , she’s going to die and go to heaven if she gets her first kiss here.

But Ariana stops, her lips centimetres away from Camila’s, and murmurs, “You like me, don’t you, Camila?”

A nervous Camila shakes her head in denial; Ariana just laughs.

“In denial?” Ariana smirks. “Not realised you like girls yet?”

“I- I don’t…” Camila mumbles, knowing full well that she does, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you have a crush on me,” Ariana says, “I know that you get off on staring at me while I change. I’ve known since you first joined the squad. I know that you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Camila defends herself, “I’m just… I’m bi. But I don’t- I don’t like you. Like that, I mean. You’re a good friend, but…”

“You do,” Ariana interrupts her, “and you don’t want people to find out about it, do you? Your friends won’t go near you if they find out. Your family… I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure they’re strict people. I could ruin you.”

Camila doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t think she can physically form any words. The only thing going through her head is that she can’t _breathe_ , and she needs to get away. Ariana doesn’t let her. She watches as Camila tries to stop the worst panic attack she’s ever had, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, give me a fucking break,” Ariana rolls her eyes, “unless you want me to tell everyone about your creepy little crush, and how you have peep holes in the locker rooms, you’re going to do everything I say.”

Camila, still trying to calm herself down, just nods helplessly.

Ariana leaves the locker room, and when Camila has calmed herself down, she runs out to the parking lot, and finds that her friends had already left without her.


	2. two

Lauren chews on her bottom lip, staring down at the table. She wanted to stay home today, but her mami had forced her to school, telling her that she’s not allowed to stay off forever. Lauren understands that, because school is important, and she needs to maintain her 5.0 GPA, but she isn’t sure if she’s ready yet.

“No,” her mami had said when she’d tried to bundle under her covers after her alarm went off. “You’ve missed the first week of school. You can’t miss the second.”

Lauren had cried in the car, not wanting to go into school so soon, because people are mean at school. People at school won’t care if Lauren had just lost her abuela. They’ll call her a freak anyway.

She’s taken refuge in the art room, waiting for her friends to come. She’d missed Dinah and Ally a lot, because when they’d come to see her, Lauren hadn’t been functioning at all, and she doesn’t really remember what they’d spoken to her about.

Lauren hums to herself, staring at the chipped white paint of the table. She rummages through her backpack for a moment, getting her sketchbook out, and thinking about something to draw. She can’t really think about lions right now, which upsets her, because her _abuela_ was always the person she’d talk about lions with. Her abuela would always encourage her and listen to her, and even watch _The Lion King_ whenever Lauren wanted.

Lauren wishes she could go back and watch it with her again. Normani had tried to watch it with her, but Lauren couldn’t handle the opening credits, and she’d cried, shutting herself in the bathroom until Normani had turned it off.

Since art is her other special interest, Lauren decides that she’ll focus on that, until it’s less painful to think about lions again. Of course, she’s not going to get rid of Nala, because she needs Nala, but except for her best friend, she doesn’t want to think about lions.

She chews on her lip again, looking down at the blank page in the sketchbook, before she carefully selects a pencil from her case. She pauses in thought, thinking of something to draw, before she lets out a heavy sigh and starts to sketch.

She doesn’t notice her friends come into the room while she’s drawing, not until she hears Dinah call her name. She looks up, blinking in surprise, before her gaze snaps to the clock.

“Don’t worry,” Ally smiles at her. “You’re not late for homeroom.”

Lauren stares down at the drawing she’d been doing, her grandmother’s eyes from memory. Her abuela was the only person who was allowed to look Lauren in the eyes, except for maybe Normani sometimes.

(And Nala. Always Nala.)

Dinah grins down at the sketch. “Damn, Lo, I know I’ve seen tons of your drawings, but I swear, they keep getting better.”

“Yes,” Lauren agrees quietly. “That… that happens when you practice lots.”

Dinah just smiles at her, taking her usual seat on Lauren’s left. “Did you go to the office and get your new schedule?”

Lauren’s expression sours, and she nods. She’s angry, because she’s already so upset, and a new schedule that _she_ didn’t design is making things so much worse. “I have- um, an appointment with- with Demi. To talk things over.”

Normani sends her a soft smile. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I- um, yes,” Lauren nods, because she’s only met the counsellor once before, when she’d started at this school – her mami had told her principal that she had _delays_ , and he’d organised a meeting on the first day of her freshman year – but Lauren’s not comfortable talking with her alone just yet. “But… but it’s okay if… if you can’t.”

Lauren never would’ve asked Normani to come with her, even though she’s scared of the counsellor. She doesn’t want to waste Normani’s time, because she’s lucky that she has a friend like Normani. She doesn’t want to ruin it.

“Of course I can, Lo,” Normani smiles, before she holds out her hand. “Pass me your schedule. We’ll figure out which classes we’re in together.”

Lauren digs through her backpack, getting the schedule out and scowling down at it. She pushes it across the table to Normani and watches as her friend looks it over, comparing it to her own, and Dinah’s and Ally’s. Lauren really hopes she has at least one of her friends in everything, because she gets scared when she’s in a class alone. Especially when they have to do partner work.

When Normani looks up with a big smile, Lauren’s heart soars hopefully. “You’re in everything with at least one of us, except in gym.”

Lauren’s stomach clenches at the words. Gym is where everyone does partner work. That class is all about team work. “Except gym?”

“Mhm,” Normani responds, picking up on Lauren’s mood. “We can ask Demi later if we can switch it.”

Lauren nods, really hoping that she can get it switched. If not, she’ll be alone the whole year, feeling even worse, because nobody will pick her for their partner, and it’s embarrassing to work with the teacher.

“Yo, Lauser,” Dinah gets her attention, and Lauren looks over, directing her gaze to Dinah’s necklace. “We’re in biology together, which means I’ll be copying off you. Thanks.”

Lauren frowns, not liking that. Dinah is supposed to do her own work. But, she keeps her mouth shut, because she’s lucky she has such good friends, and she doesn’t want to ruin things. She doesn’t want them to leave her.

Dinah seems to sense that she’s upset, because she sends her a gentle smile. “I’m only playing, Ralph. You know that.”

Lauren feels much better after hearing that. “Okay.”

“Come on, Lo,” Normani says, standing up and holding out a hand. “I’ll walk you to homeroom.”

Lauren hums, and closes her sketchbook, carefully tucking it into her backpack. She pulls it on, using both straps, and stands up, going to leave the room, but Ally stops her. “Lo? We know you’re hurting right now, and you can talk to us about anything.”

Lauren doesn’t tell them that she thinks she’s hurting all the time. She just nods, lets Ally hug her, and follows Normani out of the art room. She takes her friend’s hand and sighs, trying not to think about how scared she is. She doesn’t want to do another school year without her abuela’s house to go to for comfort. Lauren _always_ went there when she was worried.

Normani sends her a comforting smile. “We’re not in the same class for last period, but… come and meet me at mine? Then we can walk to the counsellor’s office together, okay?”

“Yes,” Lauren nods, “We’ll walk together.”

Normani just squeezes her hand as they walk into homeroom, pulling her into the seat next to her.

Lauren doesn’t _hate_ the school day. She has all of her friends in her classes, because she’s not supposed to have gym until Thursday. She’s excited for Wednesday, because she has art, and she _also_ has an art class on a Wednesday night. Her mami had made her sign up, even though Lauren was frightened to, because she doesn’t want to meet new people, but she _does_ want to do art. Her mami signed her up because she wanted Lauren to meet new people and make more friends, but Lauren doesn’t want that. She has friends, and she doesn’t think that anybody else would _want_ to be her friend.

She’d memorised Normani’s last class of the day, and when the school bell rings, Lauren waits until all of her classmates had disappeared until she leaves. She walks down the empty hallways, humming to herself, and when she makes it to Normani’s classroom, she goes to walk in.

She hesitates when she hears voices. The class is out, but Normani is still in there, talking to some boy.

“I really have to go, Arin,” Normani is saying, “I promised my friend, Lauren, that I’d meet her.”

“Why do you hang out with her?” Lauren hears the boy, Arin, say. “She’s really weird, everyone knows that. Isn’t she like, retarded or something?”

The word hits Lauren in the chest, and silent tears roll down her cheeks. She wonders what she’d done to make this boy be so mean. She wonders why she gets called that nasty word, because she doesn’t understand what she’s done to deserve it.

She’s _not_ that. She’s _not_. Right?

She hears a slapping sound, before Normani speaks, angry this time. “Any chance you might’ve had at going out with me? That’s gone. Never talk to me again.”

“It was just a question!” The boy defends himself. “It’s not like it’s not true, anyway. Everyone says it.”

Lauren slumps down against the wall and hides her face in her knees. She doesn’t want everyone to say that about her, because it’s not _true_ , and she doesn’t know what she’s done wrong. She tries so hard to just be _normal_ , but she doesn’t know _how_. She wishes more than anything that she wasn’t the way she is.

“She’s my best friend, you fucking asshole,” Normani says, slapping him again. “I care about her more than I’d ever care about you. I’d pick her over you _any_ fucking day. Ass.”

Lauren hears footsteps, and she scrambles to get up, because she doesn’t want Normani to know that she’s heard. She doesn’t want to make things worse.

But Normani walks too fast, leaving the classroom and seeing Lauren as she tries to run away. “Oh my god, Lo. Did you… did you hear?”

Lauren nods, trying to wipe away her tears, and feeling immensely guilty. Lauren knows that it’ll be hard for her to find a partner, but she hadn’t realised that she was making it hard for Normani, too. Lauren knows how much she craves someone to love her, and she doesn’t want Normani to feel that way. She doesn’t want Normani to feel alone, and she _does_. Normani is alone, and it’s all _Lauren’s_ fault.

She backs away from her friend, mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

“Lo, no, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Normani says, reaching out for her. “Come on. Give me a hug.”

Lauren shakes her head, stepping backwards again. “No. I- I’m sorry. I- I ruined… ruined it.”

“Lauren,” Normani shakes her head, holding her hand out, “come on. You didn’t ruin anything. He was an asshole, and he’s not someone I want to be around. _You’re_ my best friend.”

“I- I just- just ruin things,” Lauren stammers, “I- I want you to- to be happy.”

“I _am_ happy, Lo,” Normani is quick to assure her, “I’m happy with you being my best friend. I don’t need some dumb boy if he isn’t going to accept my best friend.”

“I don’t know if… if anyone will,” Lauren gets out, squeezing her eyes shut, “I do- I do everything wrong and I don’t even… I don’t know _how_.”

“No, you don’t do things wrong,” Normani firmly responds. She holds out her hand, beckoning Lauren over, but doesn’t make a move towards her. She knows not to crowd Lauren when she gets upset. “Lo, you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s that asshole’s fault. He needs to be educated.”

Lauren taps her fingers against her pants and breathes heavily, trying to calm herself down. She tries to clear everything out of her head, like that boy calling her a bad word, and how she can’t even go and see her abuela later and get cuddles and feel better, and slowly, it seems to work.

 _Normani loves me_ , Lauren reminds herself, _I’m her best friend._

She opens her eyes, and slowly approaches Normani, before she takes her friend’s hand. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Normani shakes her head, “because you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry that- that I’m weird,” Lauren continues, ignoring Normani’s words. “I’m sorry that- that I’m not… that I push people away from you. Because- because I know what it’s like, to… to want someone to love you. But you- you have a chance to find your person, and…”

“And you do too,” Normani continues for her, “we’re going to find our people together, Lo.”

“I- I know that… that everyone has a person, but… but what if mine is…” Lauren frowns, biting down on her bottom lip. “What if I never meet mine? Or- or what if they don’t like me? What if they call me the ‘f’ word or the ‘r’ word?”

“They’ll love you, Lo,” Normani promises her, “whoever they are, I’m sure they can’t wait to meet you and give you the biggest hug.”

-

Two days later, Lauren wonders if she’s met her person.

She goes to her art class, and she takes the only available seat, at the back, between two girls. She’s uncomfortable, because she’d hoped it’d be quieter, but there’s a big room full of people. The teacher starts talking about techniques, and Lauren tunes out, because she knows all of her techniques already. Art is one of her special interests, and she already knows most things about it.

She starts to wonder if this art class is pointless, and wonders if her mami would let her quit, but she knows that Clara would be disappointed. Though, she almost always seems disappointed; while Lauren is bad at reading body language, she knows certain emotions on certain people after she’s seen them many times.

And Lauren practically grew up seeing Clara’s disappointment.

“Turn to the person next to you and discuss your personal techniques and how they work for you.” The teacher announces, and Lauren’s anxiety rises. She doesn’t try to talk to the girl next to her, because she doesn’t know what to say.

The girl, however, speaks. “Um… hi. I just… thought I’d let you know that… uh, I have Asperger’s, so I’m sorry if I’m hard to work with or-”

Lauren looks up at the girl, green eyes wide. She looks her over, her eyes widening even more at how pretty she is, and her heart starts beating faster. “Hallo!”

She hadn’t meant for it to be so loud, but the girl doesn’t seem to care. “I’m Lucy.”

“I’m- I’m…” Lauren stammers, the wires in her brain tangling up. She wants to introduce herself, and she _also_ wants to let the girl know that she can understand, that they’re practically the _same_ , and ends up blurting out, “I’m autistic!”

Usually, she keeps it to herself. She’s not proud of it. She doesn’t like it. She wishes she wasn’t different. But this girl is one of the most beautiful people Lauren has ever seen, and she wants her to know that they’re the _same_.

“Oh,” Lucy frowns, and Lauren worries that she shouldn’t have said anything. “Um… is that your name, or are you telling me your diagnosis?”

“My- my diagnosis,” Lauren gets out, tapping on her leg. “I’m- um, my name is Lauren.”

“Oh,” Lucy says again, before she smiles, not meeting her gaze. “Hello, Lauren.”

“Hi,” Lauren replies, Lucy’s smile taking her breath away. “I- um, so… so, you like art?”

“Yeah!” Lucy beams, bouncing on her seat a little, “I’m homeschooled, so this is… this is where I see people my age. And people not my age, too.”

Lauren feels jealous. She _wishes_ she was homeschooled. “My mami is a- a teacher, but she doesn’t homeschool me. She made me come here, so I could- um, make new friends.”

Lauren smiles proudly, because she thinks she’s done that. Lucy is being nice to her, and they’re practically the same, because they’re both on the spectrum and they both like art, so they _must_ be friends.

“My mom made me come here, too.” Lucy says, and Lauren wants to squeal in excitement, but she also doesn’t want to draw attention to herself. “I don’t have any friends, really.”

Lauren’s smile falters. “I thought- um, I thought we were friends?”

“We are?” Lucy frowns, but smiles again, holding out a fist. “Bump me.”

Lauren stares at the other girl’s hand, a little warily, but softly nudges it with her own. “Does that mean we’re friends?”

“Yes,” Lucy decides, before she pats her hands against her knees. “We have the same special interest.”

“Yes!” Lauren exclaims, and her heart pounds. She thinks about texting Normani and telling her that maybe she’s found her person, maybe she _won’t_ always be alone. “I- um, I think you’re really pretty.”

“Thank you,” Lucy beams, humming happily, “I think you’re pretty too. I’m glad we’re friends, because I don’t really have any friends. I have my girlfriend, Vero, but she’s not my _friend_ , because she’s my _girlfriend_ , get it?”

Lauren’s happiness comes crashing down in a second, and her smile practically disintegrates. Lucy has a girlfriend. A girlfriend named Vero. She’s not Lauren’s person.

Lauren tries to put her smile back on, her heart stinging. “Oh. Well, um, I will be your first friend.”

Lucy smiles. “Good. I have a good first friend.”

Lauren doesn’t text Normani when she gets home. She curls up in bed with her Nala, hates herself for getting her hopes up, and wondering where her person really is.

-

Camila is sitting in her back yard, staring down at her phone. Her stomach drops and her heart aches at the words on her screen, knowing the text is from Ariana or one of her friends on the squad.

 _Go to hell, fucking pervert_.

She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling her phone buzz in her hand again. She cringes, but opens her eyes, and reads the words on her screen.

_Better get to work on my history assignment, dyke._

Camila rubs at her eyes, pushing the tears away. She knows she has to do Ariana’s work; if she doesn’t, Ariana will out her. Camila _can’t_ get outed. She _can’t_ let anyone know. Her parents wouldn’t accept it, and her _friends_ certainly wouldn’t.

If Marielle and Sandra found out, they’d _torture_ her.

Camila looks over at her house with a sigh, deciding that she should go inside and work on Ariana’s project. Her own schoolwork is starting to pile up, and it’s only the second week; she knows she’s got to prepare for a hellish school year. Ariana is a junior, and she’s taking a lot of AP classes, which makes everything more challenging for Camila; she doesn’t know this work, and she’s not smart enough for it.

She goes up to her room, dragging her feet behind her and pushing her phone away. She picks up the assignment Ariana had left in her locker; _somehow,_ she’d found the combination out. She sighs, not even understanding the _title_ , let alone anything else, and she runs a hand through her hair in frustration.

She picks up a pen and reads through the essay instructions again, trying to get the words to sink in. Trying to understand _something_. If she messes it up, if she writes the wrong thing and Ariana fails, that’s it. Her secret is out. Everyone will know that she’s…

That she’s _wrong_.

Camila had been okay with her sexuality before. She’d accepted it. She hadn’t been ready by any means to come out, but she was at least _okay_ with it. She was _happy_.

But then Ariana realised. Then she started getting texts, calling her a _sick pervert_. That’s when she started to realise that she’s wrong. That she needs to fix herself. If she could just be _fixed_ , then all of this would go away.

Deep down, she knows it’s impossible. She knows that it’s not something she can change, but it’s still something she could push down. She could ignore the feelings she has for girls, push them aside, and just focus on the crushes she has on boys. She could marry a boy. She could love a boy. She could have a life with a boy.

 _With your luck, your soulmate will be a girl_ , a little voice at the back of Camila’s head taunts her, _with your luck, you’ll fall for a girl and you won’t be able to do anything about it._

“Kaki,” Sofi’s head peeks around the door and she sends Camila a bright, innocent smile. “Hi. Will you play with me?”

Camila sighs, looking down at the essay she has to do for Ariana. “No. I’m busy.”

Sofi sighs. “But you’re _always busy_. I wanna play a game. Please?”

“No,” Camila reiterates, a little harsher this time. “I’ve got work to do.”

Sofi doesn’t move from the doorway. “But Kaki-”

 _“Just get out_ ,” Camila shouts at her, her stomach dropping with guilt the second it happens. Sofi blinks, tears in her eyes, and she bolts out of Camila’s room. There’s the distinct sound of a door slamming, and Camila knows that her sister has run into her bedroom.

She pushes the work away, her problems with Ariana seeming so trivial when she realises she’d hurt her sister. Her baby sister, Sofi, the person she swore she’d always protect.

She walks across the hall to Sofi’s door, and sits down crosslegged. She taps against it three times and waits for a response, but she doesn’t get one, so she sighs. “I’m sorry, Sofi.”

Saying it to the door is a lot less effective than saying it to Sofi’s face, but it’s _something_. She hears movement in her sister’s room, but Sofi doesn’t open the door. So, Camila keeps going.

“I’m sorry,” Camila repeats, picking at a loose thread in her jeans. “I’m just really stressed. I’ve got a lot of school work to do and I’m under a lot of pressure, but that’s no excuse to shout at you. I’m sorry, Sofi. You know you’re still my favourite girl, right?”

The door opens a crack, and Sofi peaks out. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” Camila confirms, smiling for the first time since Ariana had confronted her a little over a week ago. “And, um, maybe we could play a quick game of _Go Fish_. If you want.”

Sofi beams, opening her door properly and gesturing Camila inside. Camila smiles and stands up, heading into her sister’s room and sitting down on the bed. Sofi gets her set of cards out – _Harry Potter_ themed – and holds them out for Camila to shuffle.

As the elder Cabello shuffles the cards, Sofi speaks. “I’m sorry too. For annoying you.”

“You don’t annoy me,” Camila is quick to say as she deals out the cards. “Honestly, Sofi? You’re my best friend. You couldn’t ever annoy me.”

“Then… then why’d you say I do?” Sofi asks, tilting her head to the side, looking hurt. “Last time your friends came over. You said you didn’t like… looking after me. That you want to go out with them instead.”

Camila bites down on her bottom lip. She hadn’t realised Sofi had heard that. “Oh. Um, I said that because they always complain when I have to babysit. They don’t know that I don’t like going to parties, so I pretend that it’s not my choice that I have to babysit you. But I love doing it. I promise.”

After a few moments of thought, Sofi nods and picks up her cards. “Okay. Do you have any fives?”

Camila shakes her head. “No, go fish.”

As Sofi pauses to scan over the cards, trying to pick one as if she’s looking through them with x-ray vision, Camila’s stomach drops again. She hates herself for being too scared to tell Marielle and Sandra how she really feels. She knows that sometimes they can be a little hard on her, by telling her what she’s supposed to do and what she’s not supposed to do, but she knows they’re _helping_ her. Camila knows she’s hopeless at social stuff, and she’s lucky to have friends that will help her out.

That’s why she can’t come out. That’s why she can’t let _Ariana_ out her. She’d lose Sandra and Marielle, her two best and _only_ friends.

She reassures herself of that hours later, when she’s still working on Ariana’s essay for her and trying to make sense of it. She tells herself she’s doing it for them. They’d do anything for her, right?

 _No, they wouldn’t_ , that voice says, but Camila pushes it away. They’re her friends and she’s lucky to have them. She’s _lucky_ that they made her join cheerleading, not band. She’s _lucky_ that they want to spend time with her.

When her phone buzzes, notifying her of a text, Camila looks down and her face pales.

_Better have my work done by Friday or I’m telling your friends about you._

Camila squeezes her eyes shut, trying to will the tears away, and tells herself she’s doing this for her friends. She can’t lose them.

They’re all she’s got.


	3. Chapter 3

Lauren is terrified.

She’s hiding in the locker rooms, because she has gym class. The counsellor hadn’t managed to get her switched, so Lauren is stuck in a class with none of her friends. And worst of all, they’re doing _swimming_.

She wears her full piece, because she doesn’t want anyone to see her scars. She doesn’t want people to laugh at them. She doesn’t want people to point them out, to say she deserved them, to say she’s _bad_ , because she’s not.

She’s not bad, she’s just different, that’s what Normani always says. Lauren isn’t quite sure if she believes her, though. Would people be so mean, if she wasn’t bad? Would everyone hate her if she wasn’t awful?

She anxiously makes her way to the pool, clenching and unclenching her fingers, her hands shaky. She’s scared, because she doesn’t like swimming, not since she fell in her pool at home when she was little, back when she couldn’t swim. It scares her, and she’s not very strong at swimming.

Their teacher tells them they’re going to be doing a few drills, before they’ll have a game of water polo. Lauren squeezes her eyes shut, but listens to the instructions, humming to herself. She’s trying to stay calm.

She follows all of the drills, thankful that they’re individual lengths of the pool, but her heart sinks when the teacher announces that they’re playing water polo, and that they’ll be divided into teams.

Lauren is put on the green team, and she tries to ignore the way a group of three girls are looking at her and giggling amongst themselves. She knows that they’re probably talking about her and making fun of her.

As the teacher goes to get the water polo equipment, the girls turn to her. “Not so tough without your friends defending you, huh, freak?”

Lauren squeezes her eyes shut, not understanding what she’s done wrong. She doesn’t know why this girl is looking at her funny. “I’m sorry.”

The blonde girl, who seems like the ringleader, laughs at her. “You’re so fucking weird. I don’t know why they’re letting her swim with us. What if she gives us something?”

One of the other girls backs away from her. “Ew, I didn’t think about that.”

“I- I’m not…” Lauren opens her mouth to defend herself, but one of the girls grabs her and pushes her under the water, and she chokes, squirming, kicking upwards to get back to the surface. The girl lets her go, and Lauren gasps, coughing and retching. “I’m sorry- I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean--”

She doesn’t get her words out, because the girl holds her under again, for longer this time, and Lauren pushes up desperately, lungs crying for air. She starts to feel faint, but the girl isn’t letting go, and Lauren thrashes under the water, absolutely terrified.

The girls let go of her, and Lauren crashes up to the surface and grabs onto the side of the pool, coughing water up. She hears them laughing, and she cries, scrambling out of the pool and running out, past her gym teacher, who tries to stop her.

Lauren pulls away, flinging open the doors to the locker rooms and curling up in a ball, sobbing. She hates this. She _hates_ being different, because if she wasn’t, those girls wouldn’t have made fun of her and held her under the water. She _hates it, she hates it, she hates it_.

She wishes she was dead.

Dinah is the one who finds her when Lauren doesn’t show up for their shared fifth period class. She finds Lauren in the locker rooms; she’d locked herself in one of the shower cubicles and had curled up in a ball, still in her bathing suit.

At first, the knock on the cubicle door startles her, and Lauren thinks it might be those girls, coming back to make her feel worse. But then she remembers that gym class had ended; she’d heard the vague sounds when everyone came in, changed, and left again.

“Ralph?” When Lauren hears Dinah’s voice, she relaxes a little. “Can you unlock the door for me?”

Lauren squeezes her eyes shut, wishing she could. She buries her face between her knees and whimpers, hearing Dinah try the door again.

She _hates_ school. Once she’d met Lucy, she’d asked her mami if she could be homeschooled, because everything is so _hard_ , and Lucy seemed happy. Her mami had said no, telling her that she needs to stay at school, because homeschooling _isn’t credible_.

“Lo,” Dinah repeats, and Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, “come on. Open the door. It’s just me, I promise.”

After a few minutes of deliberation and working herself up to the task, Lauren gets up and unlocks the cubicle door. Dinah walks in, alone as promised, takes one look at Lauren, and holds out her hand. Lauren ignores it, and elects to collapse into her best friend’s arms, sobbing into her shoulder.

“Come on,” Dinah murmurs, “let’s get you dressed.”

Lauren clings onto her as Dinah leads her through to the locker rooms. Lauren bites down on her lip, and opens up her locker, before she whines, realising that there’s nothing in there except her phone, which she’d left tucked inside her usual scuffed black and white converse.

“Those bitches,” Dinah mutters, and Lauren frowns, checking the nearby lockers, not understanding what’s happened. Dinah stops her. “Ralph, it’s okay, I’ve brought a spare hoodie and jeans from my locker, come on.”

Lauren frowns, checking her gym locker again, not understanding where her things are. Dinah nudges her towards a bench, sitting Lauren down before she gets her spare clothes out of her bag, and Lauren frowns, shaking her head and pointing to her gym locker.

“Lauren,” Dinah sighs, shaking her head, “Lo, I’m so sorry, they took your clothes. I need you to point the assholes out, okay? I’m going to deal with them.”

Lauren whines when she realises, and her breathing starts to quicken, but Dinah pulls her close, rubbing comforting circles on her back. She buries her face into Dinah’s shoulder and cries, trying to understand why people are so mean.

Dinah helps her out of her swimsuit and into the spare clothes, and Lauren wipes at her eyes with the sleeves of the hoodie. She watches as Dinah texts someone, before she nods to the door of the locker rooms.

“Mani is taking you home,” Dinah says, and Lauren’s eyes widen. She _can’t_ go home. If her mami finds out she left school, she’ll get mad, and Lauren is trying her best to be good for her mami. She doesn’t want to make her parents upset or disappointed. “No arguments. You can’t stay at school like this.”

Lauren opens her mouth, trying to get the words out. She stammers out, “can’t,” and hopes Dinah understands, because she can’t manage to get anything else from her brain out of her mouth.

“Fuck your attendance record,” Dinah rolls her eyes, leading Lauren down the hallway and towards the front. “I’ll cover for you. Promise.”

Lauren just nods hopelessly and follows Dinah towards Normani’s car. She gets in, glancing over at her best friend, who holds her arms out. Lauren blinks, collapsing into Normani’s embrace with a long sigh. She feels so empty.

After a quick cuddle, Normani starts to drive, and Lauren stares down at her feet, scared of what her mami will say if she finds out she left school early. Thankfully, when she gets home, nobody is in, and Normani takes her straight up to her bedroom.

Lauren pulls off Dinah’s clothes and bundles herself under her covers, picking up Nala and cuddling her against her chest. Normani changes into some of Lauren’s pyjamas and climbs into bed next to her, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist and giving her tummy rubs.

Lauren cries herself to sleep.

“I’m just worried about her.”

That’s the first thing Lauren wakes up to. She shifts against Normani, keeping her eyes shut and pretending to sleep, and her best friend’s fingers run through her hair soothingly.

Dinah sighs, and Lauren wonders when she got there. “I know. I am too.”

“It’s just…” Normani seems to hold Lauren tighter. “She really hates herself, Dinah. She’s in such a bad place and I’ve never seen her like this before. I’m worried that maybe all of that self-hatred will push her over the edge and she’ll do something stupid.”

“No,” Dinah is quick to shoot that down. “I know she’s in a bad place, but Lo would _never_.”

“She’s so sad _all the time_ , D.” Normani counters, and Lauren bites down on her bottom lip and squeezes her eyes shut tighter, because she didn’t know that Normani had noticed. “She keeps trying to push me away, too. It’s like she doesn’t think she’s _worthy_ of friends.”

Lauren wants to cry, because that’s exactly how she feels. She doesn’t think she deserves friends like Normani, Dinah and Ally. She knows their lives would be easier without her.

“Look… she’s in a bad place because she lost her abuela,” Dinah quickly clarifies. “That’s what’s really messing her up. The assholes at school are just the cherry on top of it all. But Lo knows that her abuela wouldn’t want her to do anything bad. She’d be heartbroken if Lauren hurt herself and whoop her ass right back down to earth if she showed up in heaven.”

“I hate that she feels this way. It’s like there’s nothing I can do to make her believe just how amazing she is.” Normani answers. “She’s just so _sad_ and it’s killing me. And she keeps talking about how nobody is ever going to fall in love with her and it hurts because I know that everyone would if they’d just get fucking educated.”

At that, Dinah actively laughs. “Come _on_. Have you seen her? Ralph’s one hot piece of ass, even if she’s always in those big sweaters. People are bound to hit on her.”

“And then they stop once they realise she’s different,” Normani argues. “You’ve seen it happen yourself.”

“There’s somebody out there for everyone. I’ve always believed that. Lauren will find her person.” Dinah says, and Lauren wishes it were true, but she knows that she doesn’t have a person. She doesn’t deserve one. Nobody deserves to be stuck with a freak like her. “You and I both know that. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and she’s so sweet. She’s a total catch.”

“Of course _we_ know that.” Normani quickly responds. “But other people don’t. Other people haven’t realised it yet, especially not people our age. People our age are fucking immature assholes. She’s not going back to that gym class. I’m not letting her.”

“Don’t worry, I talked to the principal. I offered to switch so Lauren’s with you guys and I’m on my own,” Dinah says, and Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, feeling guilty, because Dinah didn’t have to do that for her. “And I dealt with the girls who did it.”

“How? Lauren didn’t tell you any names, she was nonverbal.” Normani frowns. “You just reported them, right? You didn’t do anything stupid?”

“I heard them talking about it in the hallway. _Bragging_.” Dinah scoffs. “And one of the girls had Ralph’s backpack. And _yes_ , I reported them, but I needed to get Lo’s backpack back _somehow_.”

“ _Dinah_ ,” Normani groans, sighing again. “You can’t go getting yourself suspended because you beat some stupid girls up.”

“ _What_? They tried to _drown_ our best friend and _then_ stole her clothes,” Dinah snaps, shaking her head. “I don’t care about getting suspended. They’re the ones who should be. They’re _sick_ , thinking it’s fucking funny to make fun of a _disabled_ person. You’ve seen what people like that are doing to her. You know she’s starting to believe all of the things they say and that’s so fucked up. If those girls aren’t expelled I’ll fucking murder them.”

“I know, DJ, but…” Normani pauses, choosing her words carefully, “we can’t be all violent about this. First, Lo doesn’t like it. Second, it’ll just get us in trouble. We have to go through the school’s way of dealing with bullies.”

“It’s fucking _bullshit_ ,” Dinah shouts, and Lauren winces, jumping, her eyes opening before she can stop them. Dinah seems to calm down, and sends her a comforting smile. “Hey, Lauser. You feeling better?”

Lauren blinks, sitting up, but nods. She coughs a little to clear her throat. “Um, yes. I am better. Is my mami home?”

“No, neither is your dad. Chris let me in. It’s half past four.” Dinah explains quickly, “your parents won’t need to know you left school unless you want to tell them.”

Lauren isn’t scared about her dad knowing, but she _is_ worried about her mother. Clara would be mad, if she knew Lauren left school. “Did you hurt those girls?”

Dinah lets out an awkward laugh and Normani sends her a stern look. “Yeah, I did. I punched two of them, grabbed your backpack and ran.”

“Oh,” Lauren looks over to her backpack, before she sighs and snuggles up to Normani again. “You shouldn’t have done that for me.”

“Lo, I’d fight anyone for you,” Dinah is quick to reassure her, “I’ll kick their asses like I kicked Mahone’s back in third grade.”

“The violence aside,” Normani interrupts before Lauren can comment, rubbing comforting circles on the younger girls’ tummy. “Dinah and Ally reported the girls to the principal. And we managed to get your gym class switched.”

“Is Ally here?” Lauren asks, looking around her room, “she’s not here. Is she okay?”

“She insisted on running home and whipping up some cookies for you,” Normani says, “she’ll be here soon.”

“Okay,” Lauren nods, squeezing Nala three times. “That’s okay.”

“Lo?” Normani gets her attention again, and Lauren nods to show she’s listening. “You know that… that these idiots at school… they’re wrong. I’m sorry they don’t understand how amazing you are, but they’re going to. I promise. But for now, you’ve just got to believe me when I tell you they’re wrong and they’re idiots, okay?”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, nodding. “Okay. I believe you.”

She doesn’t.

-

Her anxiety is getting worse.

It’s always been bad, obviously. She’s never had any treatment for it. Therapy and medications are too expensive, and her parents have enough to deal with, and Camila wants Sofi to be able to have everything she needs for a happy childhood.

She manages, most of the time. She was managing perfectly fine before she’d started back at school for sophomore year.

Now, it feels like everything is falling apart. Her grades have started to slip, because she’s too focused on doing Ariana’s work for her. She’s so much more irritable, because she’s under so much stress between doing someone _else’s_ homework, her _own_ homework and trying to analyse and figure out if Marielle and Sandra know anything. The girls on the cheerleading squad are incredibly close, and Camila is scared that someone will let something slip, even if she’s doing everything Ariana asks.

Every time her friends giggle between themselves, Camila’s anxiety spikes. She wants to know what they know, if they’re planning something, if they’re going to find out and out her to everyone, even her parents.

She wants to believe that her parents would be accepting, but they’re very traditional, and in Camila’s mind, traditional equals unaccepting. Traditional means losing her family at _fifteen_ , if her secret gets out.

Of course, because her mother seems to sense her emotions so easily, she comes into Camila’s room as she’s forcing her way through Ariana’s homework. Camila is quick to cover it up and flip her phone over, in case of any anonymous texts. “Hola, mami.”

Not bothering to greet her back, Sinu sits down across from her on the bed and watches her carefully. “Is everything okay at school, mija?”

Camila blinks in surprise at the question, lying quickly. “Yeah, it’s fine… why?”

She prays that Sinu hadn’t received any calls from the school. She knows it’s an inevitability; with the rate her grades are slipping, Camila knows it’s only a matter of time before a teacher calls home.

“You just seem so sad lately,” Sinu says, and Camila tries to act like she doesn’t know what her mother is talking about. In reality, she knows exactly what Sinu has caught onto. “And you keep getting panic attacks. Do you need me to take you to the doctor?”

“No,” Camila is quick to say. It’s expensive and she’s not letting her parents spend money on something like that. “I’m okay, mami. I promise. The work is just harder this year, but I’m sure I’ll adjust.”

It hurts, lying to her mother like this. She’s always been so close with Sinu, but if she tells her about the situation at school, Ariana will out her, and she’ll lose her friends and family in an instant.

Sinu seems to accept her answer and smiles. “Okay, mija. Dinner is in twenty minutes, don’t work yourself too hard.”

She motions to the big pile of Ariana’s homework as she says it, before Sinu kisses the top of Camila’s head and leaves the room. Camila lets out a long sigh and looks back at the homework, before she opens up her Tumblr, speculating if she could find someone online to talk to, or at least see if anyone out there has ever been in a situation like hers before.

Camila scrolls through the _personal_ and _anxiety_ tags, wondering if there’s anyone she could reach out to, anyone who understands. She’s looking through a few posts when she reaches one from another blog, _ssweet-dispositionn_ , and her heart practically breaks.

**_ssweet-dispositionn:_ ** _Every day, I wish I wasn’t the way I am. I just want to fit in with everyone else, but people always seem to single me out and make fun of me, and I just want it to stop. I just want everything to stop._

She opens up the blog, frowning when she sees equally as upsetting posts.

**_ssweet-dispositionn:_ ** _I think I’m the only person on the planet who isn’t meant for somebody. Like something went wrong when I was created. Everyone is always telling me that I’m useless, that I’m a disappointment, that I’m weird, that I’m a freak. If everyone thinks that, it’s got to be true. If everyone thinks that, then maybe I’m just wrong. Maybe my friends are telling me lies._

**_ssweet-dispositionn:_ ** _Maybe I am meant for somebody, but I don’t deserve them because I’m weird and I’m not right. If my person is out there, I want them to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry, because I know I’ll disappoint you. I’m sorry. You deserve someone better. You deserve someone normal._

Camila bites down on her bottom lip, practically feeling the person’s pain through the screen. She looks to the sidebar, but there’s no description, except ‘ _I am but a lowly instrument to the muses’,_ and no picture of the blog owner; their icon is a black and white picture of Nala from _The Lion King_.

She goes to their askbox anyway, checking that the _anonymous_ button is selected, and writing something out.

_Hi. I just read a lot of your recent posts, and you seem like you’re in a really bad place. But I want to tell you that even if things don’t seem like it, they’ll get better. And don’t worry about trying to find your person. They’ll come to you when the time is right. They’ll come when you need them most._

_I promise you, you’re not weird. You’re not wrong. You’re not a freak. Your person will see that, too. They won’t be disappointed, because they’ll know how much you mean to them. You seem like an amazingly sweet person, and I’m sorry you’re going through such a tough time. Just know that you deserve the world._

_Hope things look up for you soon._

_-KC_

After clicking _send_ , Camila leaves the blog, wondering why she feels so jittery inside.


End file.
